


Greatest Rage

by thatluckyrabbit



Category: Repo! The Genetic Opera (2008)
Genre: Angst, Gen, Implied/Referenced Self-Harm, Self-Harm, Self-Hatred, Suicidal Thoughts, its not too sappy dont worry
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2015-03-31
Updated: 2015-03-31
Packaged: 2018-03-20 14:56:58
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 530
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/3654594
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/thatluckyrabbit/pseuds/thatluckyrabbit
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>A different take of where Luigi's scars came from.</p>
            </blockquote>





	Greatest Rage

**Author's Note:**

> I've been wanting to write for my fav Repo character/bae Luigi for a while, but was never able to find a good idea until now. This wrote itself, as someone who dealt with self harm and suicidal thoughts, I thought of a different reason for how Luigi's scars came to be. He never struck me as the type who would go for the wrists, but rather where the actual physical pain that comes from thoughts of self doubt and self hatred come from, so this basically happened. Just my take on his scars, that's all! Hope you enjoy! I couldn't help it, I live for angst. XD

 

Only when he was really angry did Luigi Largo actually harm himself rather than those around him.  
  
Genterns he could care less about, family—while his siblings especially pissed him off most of the time—however, he could never bring himself to hurt, not even in a blind fury. No, it was always his own skin he could slice open in a fit, but the anger he felt when he did was always heavily mixed with a pain in his chest he couldn't describe, and it only made him even more angry.  
  
_Get rid of it, make it stop!_

**Go for the source.**

  
Wrists were for pussies in his opinion. No, no, why go for the wrists when he could go directly for the source of his pain? His chest, where his most vital organs were. His lungs which burned with each breath he tried to choke in when the pain blinded his eyes with that wet stuff he hated ( _'tears, mio figlio'_ , he'd hear his dead mother say, in a soft coo she would murmur to him when he was but a child), and his heart, which clenched when he thought about what he was, who he was, and how lonely he really felt. He would slice the skin of his chest, directly over his lungs and his heart, in order to numb that pain directly. Pain did nothing for him, at least not measly cuts, so with each time he went deeper and deeper. If he'd gone for his wrists he was sure he would have bled out and died, but he didn't. He made sure he wouldn't die from this.  
  
_No one is gonna get rid of me that easily... not even me._  
  
It was that horrible Largo pride that made him unable to just bring the knife to his throat and slit it. It was so easy, he could do it without a second thought, but that horrible stubborn pride that so obviously came from his own father made him unable to do it. He wanted to, oh there were times where he wanted to, but he could never do it. And it was strange, because those times where the pain in his chest built up to the point where it made it hard for him to breathe, those horrible thoughts clouding his mind, those awful voices, the face of a mother who died too young plaguing him... It was always too much to bare, and it made him want to die. He had no problem killing other people who he didn't know and couldn't care about at all, and he could never harm family...  
  
But as much as he hated himself, deep down, and when that pain brought all that self hatred up and manifested itself, Luigi could never really kill himself, either. And if anyone asked where the scars came from—and a lot of people, especially his siblings, did ask—he would just say with a fake grin that someone tried to take him down, but he didn't let them. He figured he'd bleed out from his self inflicted injuries one day, but it hadn't happened yet.  
  
_Maybe one day, but not today..._


End file.
